


From Shade into the Sun

by rhubarb_bookish



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhubarb_bookish/pseuds/rhubarb_bookish
Summary: When Cole Mackenzie returns to school a strong friendship blooms between him and Gilbert Blythe. The two quickly become fast friends and a source of comfort and hope in one another's lives. The stolen smiles, coded glances and warmth the boys share, may be foreshadowing something more in their future... perhaps a tragical romantic tale?
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Cole MacKenzie
Comments: 18
Kudos: 39





	1. Pineapples!

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Light reference to domestic abuse, death and homophobia.
> 
> Heyo, and welcome to the first part of this grandiose tale! I hope you enjoy...

It was hard not to remember Anne Shirley Cuthbert's first week of school, it may not have been her intention but she blazed through the rickety school house. Burning through the building with a flame akin to her fiery hair, or (according to Gilbert Blythe) 'Carrot!' hair (a comment both of them were yet to live down). 

But Gilbert can be a little slow on the uptake, yet to realise that childish hair pulling is far from a good idea, however in his defence, their relationship had only gotten stronger since she whacked some sense into him with that heavy hunk of slate. So perhaps it shouldn't have come as any kind of surprise when a similar incident was repeated on Cole Mackenzie's first day back at school.

* * *

Cole had never felt as miserable as when he tramped into that familiar purgatory that was Avonlea's upper school class room at eight o'clock on a cold winter's morn. After Ms Stacy had become the teacher she'd visited Cole's parents in regards his 'Unplanned, unapproved and unreasonably long sabbatical', what Ms Stacy hadn't bargained for was that it was also an unknown sabbatical. Needless to say Mr and Mrs Mackenzie where less than happy, sending Cole along to school the next day with an empty stomach and a stinging back. 

Cole felt dread dripping to his core, he pictured his own personal rain cloud leaking fat cold tear drops of trepidation on to his head which trickled through his skull to his soul, or an old spout with a constant, insidious leak- plop... plop... plop... Or perhaps it was a melting icicle dropping freezing water-

"Cole?" Ms Stacy walked out from the supply room, cutting through his discernible air of self pity. The woman bustled over to him, concern staining her kindly face. "Are you alright?"

His tongue fell leaden in his mouth, this basic human decency created a thick knot at the top of his throat, he felt truly pathetic. Of course he wasn't alright, he was about as far from alright as he's ever been. He took a moment, doing his best to compose himself, hesitant to speak lest his voice betray him. 

After a pregnant pause Cole finally responded, "I came early to see about catch up work, to compensate for the time I've missed," The waver in his voice embarrassingly evident, his words sorrowful and his tone strained. Ms Stacy furrowed her brow but didn't ask about the boy's defeated demeanour.

"Of course my dear. Gilbert Blythe already comes in for extra support, perhaps I could align your schedules so you could study together... in fact I suppose he could even help tutor you if he's up to it. But yes definitely something can be done, lucky for you, that Mr. Philips gentleman had everyone behind on the curriculum, so you may well have not missed as much as you could have."

Cole stood stock still but lent her an appreciative nod.

"So would you like to come in on the same mornings and afternoons as Gilbert?"

"If that's what's easiest,"

"I believe it's what's potentially the most beneficial," and then like an after thought "-for both of you." Although it seemed clear to Cole, that Gilbert Blythe had little to learn from himself, "So that'll be Monday though Wednesday before school, and after school on Thursday and Friday. I'll expect you an hour early in the mornings and to stay an hour and a half after school, is that clear?"

"Yes Ms." Cole felt less wobbly now, the time spent explaining had granted him the moments needed to calm himself, and then a thought struck him, if Gilbert comes in early on Mondays shouldn't he be here now? He was thinking about asking Ms Stacy but couldn't bring himself to, feeling it'd come off as nosey. Instead he excused himself and went to put away his things in the cloak room. 

He was half out the door banging the mud and snow off his decrepit boots when he heard Ms Stacy's chirpy voice calling through to him, "Cole may I get you any tea or coffee? I'm already making one for myself and Gilbert so it's not trouble." 

"I'd like that!" Cole called back, wincing at his own volume. He pulled back on his boots, moving back into the main school house, "I'll take a tea please,"

"Coming right up!"

Just then, as though sensing the presence of a hot and caffeinated beverage, Gilbert Blythe breezed in though the door. As he took off his hat and coat he shouted out to Ms Stacy, oblivious to Cole's presence. "Sorry I'm late Ms, a bird came in the door and scared Bash, he dropped breakfast on the floor, I helped him tidy it up and cook some more eggs, the time escaped me and of course when I realised, I ran-" Gilbert walked into the main room trailing off as he saw Cole. "Oh... sorry Cole I didn't realise you were here or back at school, at all for that matter,"

"Not as if I had any choice in the matter," Cole Mackenzie huffed, "It's not so bad though, I'm getting tea!" he added with an awkward smirk. 

"Well if it's any consolation, I'm glad you're here," Gilbert responded with a bright smile.

"I think I'm going to be doing catch up work, while you're getting your extra tuition."

"That'll be nice, to have the company. I like the idea of seeing more of you Cole,"

During Cole's extended break Cole and Gilbert had hardly seen each other, not that they'd ever been terribly close. However their paths did cross on the night of Josephine Barry's Winter Ball, they'd spent a good part of the evening together, grinning and dancing, even when Anne and Diana had disappeared. For Cole it had been a night of self revelation, for Gilbert it had been a night of Cole. Closeness to Cole, seeing him and spending time with him for the first time... ever. Both boys had found the evening truly wonderful. 

"And I you," Cole couldn't get rid of aforementioned awkward smirk, he was going to get to spend an hour a day with Gilbert Blythe. Serious but kind, smart and handsome, Gilbert who he 'clicked' with. 

"Cole?" Ms Stacy called through, "Milk or sugar in your tea?"

"Just milk please!"

"I take my tea black," Commented Gilbert casually, naïvely in fact. 

"You're a monster Gilbert Blythe! How could you take the best drink on the planet- the ambrosia of the gods- the heavenly match that is milk and tea and do the most horrendous atrocity known to man, aside from putting in sugar perhaps," Such an outburst, even in jest was out of character for Cole, however tea was one of the few things sacred to him. He wasn't one for God, (given what the church, rightly or wrongly, said God thought about people like him), so he'd constructed his own holy trinity; Josephine Barry, Tea and Anne's den in the woods. The three pillars of his existence, hope, happiness and heathenism if you will. 

"It's just tea," Gilbert said quizzically, doing a little eye brow quirk.

"Just tea? No, no, no, I won't hear anymore of this nonsense. Tea without milk is a heinous crime against all that is holy, end of," Cole felt slightly embarrassed at how immature he must have come across, but equally was not about to back down, as such desperately wanted to move to the next topic.

"Well Cole, how about one day after school, you come over to my house and educate me on the wonders of tea. In amongst Bash's spice collection he has quite the supply of tea leaves, and I know he'd be enthusiastic to share." 

Cole really liked this idea. A good friend and a good drink what could be better. Oh! That's it! Not getting beaten by his father! Unfortunately not being domestically abused trumped a nice evening with a friend. 

"I'd love to but I can't. I'm on really, really bad terms with my parents since they learnt I haven't been coming to school."

Before Gilbert could ask Cole what he meant Ms Stacy came back in precariously balancing three mugs, apparently the school house kitchenette didn't stretch to a tray. Cole and Gilbert ran over to take the mugs off her quickly, luckily Cole ended up with his tea, and Gilbert with his Coffee.

"We have, what, half an hour before everyone else gets here? So plenty of time to do a little work. Gilbert I prepared for you a sheet of sums last night for you to work on. Cole I'd just like to run through some questions with you to see where you are in different subjects and establish any gaps in your knowledge, sound alright?"

Both boys nodded, Cole over him mug as he'd already begun sipping on his tea, despite the fact it was still scalding hot.

Ms Stacy handed Gilbert the sheets of sums, "Let's get down to business then,"

The questions Ms Stacy asked Cole were definitely challenging, but she seemed satisfied in how he did, and even a little surprised when he got some of the harder answers right, she also seemed very happy in Cole's passion for art. By the time all the other children began arriving Cole was feeling much better about being back at school and even as though he might have a good time.

When Anne came in she bounded into Cole's arms, "You're back! You're back! You're back!" she squealed in delight, Gilbert walked by looking fondly at the exchange. 

"I'm yet to decide how I feel about it, but Ms Stacy is much better than Mr Philips, perhaps school will be bearable this time,"

Cole had spoken too soon.

When it came to sitting down everyone went to their normal places, unfortunately someone else's normal place was Cole's old one. The new kids that had joined the upper school since Cole left filled up the whole boys side of the class room. So Cole did a walk of shame shuffling to the front of the class to ask where he should sit, to his dismay the answer wasn't to add an extra chair to the boys side, nor to have someone move, no, Ms Stacy had something rather different in mind;

"Good morning class! Today we have a new student and we're going to also have a new seating plan! We welcome Cole back to this class-" (this was met with a wave of whispers and neighbour nudging rippling through the class room) "-as for the new seating plan, it seems to me that the idea of splitting a class room up by gender is ridiculous and archaic. What logic can there be to it which isn't wholly arbitrary? I believe it just adds to the small minded notions of sexism and women's place in education, and perpetuates the unrelenting taboo surrounding the opposite gender. At the school I used to teach at we had the students sat by alternating gender so they would chat less. We'll be trying this today... everyone out of your seats and stand at the back of the room!"

One word came to mind for Cole; Mortifying. He knew Ms Stacy could well have been already thinking to do this, but it was horribly reminiscent of when Mr Philips made Cole sit with the girls. Like he was obviously effeminate in some way and as such the seating plan had to be changed on his behalf. He knew it was probably irrational, but he also knew that many of the students would follow the same line of logic and assume it had something to do with Cole.

Cole ended up sitting in Anne's old seat, right next to Josie Pye. There was no way in the name of tea, aunt jo, and the book club on high, that this could end well. Ms Stacy started lessons as normal, today they were beginning with English. The special Stacy twist was each person would stand read one section and sit back down, having to act along to the words they read. Cole thought the whole ordeal was hilarious and delightful, especially as Anne now sat in the front right most seat and started the chain. Standing up on the table and proclaiming in a wicked voice "O Merlin in your crystal cave, deep in the diamond of the day!". What wasn't hilarious nor delightful was Josie Pye's constant biting commentary. 

"Will there ever be a singer whose music will smooth away the furrow drawn by Adam's finger across the memory and the wave?" 

Then the hissing whisper "Doesn't he know he looks ridiculous doing that face?"

"Or a runner who'll outrun man's long shadow driving on,"

Then came the snake, "The outrunning and driving aren't literal, she's so thick."

"Break through the gate of memory and hang the apple on the tree?"

"The way he mimed that made him look queer!"

Okay, what did this moron just say?

"Josie, I'm trying to pay attention, and anyway they're just doing the activity," Cole said sharply, trying to keep his act together.

"Will your magic ever show, the sleeping bride shut in her bower,"

"As if SHE'D ever be a bride," Did she not hear him? Or her craving to belittle other people just that strong?

That's when Cole felt the paper hit his shoulder, he turned around to see Gilbert pointedly looking at it with a smile. Cole glared at him and retuned his gaze to the person talking. Gilbert might be his friend, but he was on edge at the moment and just wanted to focus on the lesson.

Another piece of paper hit his shoulder he didn't even turn around this time.

"The day wreathed in its mound of snow and Time locked in his tower?" read Moody.

"Good work, now we will continue to the poem on page twenty of your anthologies, we will be comparing the two later in the lesson,"

"Of Merlin wise I learned a song, sing it low or sing it loud,"

"He sound like a screeching cat,"

Cole began tapping his foot, and clenching and unclenching his fist, this girl had such a nerve- not only was Arthurian legend one of his favourite things, not only had she ruined what was gearing up to be a great day, not only had he asked her politely to stop but also she knew he'd been bullied, what part of her brain was damaged in such a way that she thought this could possibly be a good idea.

And then the noise bubbling in Cole reached a crescendo...

"Hey! Pineapple!" Gilbert said having leaned across the isle, tugging gently at Cole's hair.

Cole shot around to face him, "What do you want!?" he said it a little too loud. The class turned around, the kid reading trailed off.

"You looked like you were going to blow, I just wanted to check you were okay and you kept ignoring me!" Gilbert spoke at a half whisper looking like a wounded puppy. 

"Gilbert back to your seat, Cole swap places with Charlie." Cole was redder then Anne's hair as he traipsed into his new seat, but as he sat down fixing his gaze out the window, he couldn't help but be thankful for Gilbert, even if he was horrendously embarrassed. 

Cole zoned out a little as the class discussed the similarities and differences in the two pieces, he absentmindedly doodled a drawing of Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone in a glowing forest glade, Arthur did look a little like Gilbert Blythe and Cole couldn't help but smile at where his subconscious had wandered too. 

"Cole, what do you think?" Ms Stacy asked, having noticed his daydreaming. Cole blushed, sputtered for words, he settled on some random gibberish about a lexical set of time and then blushed some more.

"I don't mind you drawing as you work, but if you don't work I won't allow you to draw, is that fair?"

"Yes Ms..." Cole said ashamed, why could nothing go right today, luckily Ms Stacey let him off the hook and announced it was morning break. 

Cole walked outside to his old spot and started to draw, he drew the school house - on fire- with Josie Pye wailing out of a window. When he'd started to draw the lines for the siding he felt a weight on his shoulder.

"That's a little extreme but I'll be the first to say I'm not her biggest fan either," Gilbert said into his ear with a chuckle, his curly hair tickling the side of Cole's cheek. Cole smiled and turned to face him. "I just wanted to apologise for earlier, I didn't mean to cause a scene," Gilbert said. 

"It's fine, in fact I meant to thank you. You're my hero, saving me from Josie Pye and all."

"Ah, well then you're most welcome my prince,"

"Prince?"

"Every hero needs a dashing prince or princess, or else what would be the point in heroics?"

"Moral virtue?"

Gilbert guffawed, Cole looked at him.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Anne Prince Pineapples,"

"Gilbert- what is a pineapple? And why do you keep calling me one?" Gilbert cringed slightly.

"Oh, I'm an idiot- it's a yellow fruit, your hair reminded me of it. It's like," Gilbert gently took Coles pencil and sketch book from his hands, doodling a rough picture of an oval with a lopsided grid pattern and spikes on top "It's like that,"

"Well it looks peculiar, so I guess you've hit the nail on the head, Prince Peculiar Pineapples and his handsome hero, the smart salacious squire,"

"I'll take salacious, not the squire part though."

They both fell about laughing after the mock senserity of their conversation. Luckily Cole clocked Billy Andrews prowling closer over Gilberts shoulder and managed to sit up straight and start spouting some nonsense about farming. He hated that he felt the need to hide talking to his friend but also he was well aware of how the conversation would come across, and would rather not get picked on. Fortunately, seeing Cole's sudden change in demeanour, Gilbert glanced over his shoulder and began nodding to Cole's prattling about tiling fields. 

"Blythe you want to come join our game? Mackenzie you can even come if you want." Billy barked.

"Thanks for the offer but we're good," said Gilbert, being the saint that he is, Cole just looked fascinated at his notepad, hoping that if he didn't move or make a noise, the predator would assume he was dead and leave. Billy shrugged and left, Cole made a mental note that he should keep Gilbert around, if not for the company, for the Billy repellent. 

Gilbert reached out and crudely drew Billy leaning out of the other window of the burning school. Cole lost it a little. After that Gilbert went back to whatever he was doing before, probably making a fool of himself in front of Anne, or curing cancer, whatever his hobbies were, and Cole finished his angry doodle of Josie burning. He wished he could say he regretted drawing it but alas. When he finished he went to find Anne, luckily she was in her normal spot, sharing treats with her friends. He plonked down next to them and they happily chatted until the end of break time.

When lessons resumed Cole tried to pay more attention to avoid any unwanted attention, and things went quite uneventfully (other than Moody tripping and breaking a beaker during science), his first day back had been rather more enjoyable than he'd expected and with Anne, Gilbert and Ms Stacy on side, felt wholly less horrible than what he'd been accustomed to. 

* * *

Gilbert was over joyed at the prospect of Cole joining him at his study sessions, as much as he was one of Ms Stacy's most loyal fans, he couldn't help but long for a friend in those stretching lonely hours before school. An absentminded smile played on his face for his whole walk home. Despite the biting cold of Canadian winter he felt a deep warmth, the sun, cheesy as it sounds, seemed to have shone deep into his soul and had lit him up from within. He felt more present than he had in recent memory, truth be told, he felt the most himself and awake he had since his father got sick. He noted the sharp crisp winter's air, the brambles, an unlikely green, cresting above the snow, and the soft crunch of the flakes beneath his feet. It was wonderful, revolutionary, and hopeful. That was it Gilbert felt hopeful. Of course he had ambition, dreams of becoming a doctor and helping people, but that future felt right, this new day had brought a future that felt bright. 

He shook his head, in an attempt to free himself from the ecstatic amble of his mind, it had little effect other than a showering of snow floating from his hat. He let himself in the door and was affronted by a gust of warm air and a salient scent of spice. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his coat, eager to get to the fireplace.

"Bash?"

"Gilbert! How was school?"

Gilbert took the kettle form the mantle and started making himself a tea as he spoke.

"Brilliant, Cole's back, I don't know if you'd remember Cole. He was the one I went to Josephine Barry's dance with? Anyway he left school because the previous teacher was being horrible to him and now he's come back because of Ms. Stacey. He's going to be going to tuition with me and I'm more than a little excited. Cole's by far one of the most interesting boys, or rather people at school and it'll be nice to have someone to talk to, like actually talk to. Not attempt to be polite to and get whacked with a slate, or get in an argument with because Billy Andrews can't hold his tongue. But just chat with and share time with peacefully." Gilbert finished his rant by taking a decisive slurp of his black tea, and as the too-hot bitter drink hit his tongue he thought of Cole and his milk diatribe, and decided to add some to his tea.

"Gilbert, I think that's the most you've said in one go since we met!" Before Gilbert could respond Bash seemingly had a second thought; "Well apart from chatting my ear off about some, recent scientific development, although those talks make about as much sense to me as a chocolate tea pot."

"Chocolate tea pot?" Gilbert was baffled, however an aside on the topic of tea, Cole might be onto something with the whole 'milk thing'. 

"Ah! Something I picked up when the steamer I worked on docked in England. It means useless, as the tea pot would melt I suuppose, but it never made much sense to me, it's about as balmy as the English gentleman I heard say it!"

"Ah... I guess that makes sense? Cole and I had a discussion about tea, when I said I normally took mine without milk, he looked like he could murder me on the spot!"

"As right he should! That's not right Gilbert, not right at all...."

"It's just how I like it! Although according to Cole it's 'the most horrendous atrocity known to man', can you believe that?"

"I can't believe you, Cole this, Cole that, and here I was worrying that you were still hung up on Anne!"

Gilbert looked at him quizzically. 

"What do you mean? Cole and I could never be like me and Anne. I mean for starters he's a boy-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, Anne and I dated. I couldn't date a boy!"

"And why is that Blythe?"

"Because- well- it's not done- that's just not how things are!" 

"Blythe that is some seriously chocolate tea pot- scratch that crackpot logic, and I think you know that."

Bash could see the gears turning, Gilbert could feel his brain whirring. Bash was right, of course, the only foundation Gilbert stood on was that of the bible, which had held little weight ever since he became interested in science, and the example set by those around him- but his mind harkened back to Josephine Barry and her friend being professed a 'Romantic Ideal' and the weird things Mr Philips said about Cole. Is this what a 'Eureka!' feels like? Was this his running out of the bath, naked in the streets and yelling his revelation moment? Was he Archimedes, finally realising his own density? As thoughts tore through his head, Gilbert could do little more than take a slow sip of milky tea. 

A heavy moment passed. Bash waiting for Gilbert to catch up with himself.

"You're right," Gilbert confessed, "of course, you're right. I'm angry I didn't think about it sooner. That I let that idea go unchallenged despite well, everything I've seen to the contrary. I'm ashamed to admit, I don't have any bias or anger towards the idea, I'd just never taken the time to think about it."

"Well you have now, and that's what matters. You're a smart boy Gilbert Blythe. Don't you go forgetting that. Any Cole or Anne or anyone else, would be lucky to have you."

Bash went back to his cooking, Gilbert went to the fire and picking his book off the side table, collapsed into his favourite chair, curling his feet up onto the seat. Mug in his lap, "The History of Modern Medicinal Herbs" in his hands.

"Cole and Anne aren't the same to me," He spoke up peering over the high back of the chair to see Bash.

"Nor should they be. But allow both of them to mean to you whatever they do, without judging yourself. If they're both friends, so be it, if you marry one of them, that's the way, if they marry each other, you'll be the unluckiest boy alive," Bash said with a chuckle.

"Thanks Bash, you're a good friend to me,"

"Don't you go getting any ideas, Master Blythe,"

"Eww!" Bash flashed what can only be described as a shit eating grin, Gilbert tossed his head in dismay and buried himself and his embarrassment deep into Hippocrates and willow bark. 


	2. Mutually Assured Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Internalised homophobia
> 
> Also this chapter is dedicated to my dear friend, Kenzie. May the hot demons stay in your bed, and the heinous ones get out of your head :*

The sun softly filtered in through the gap between the curtains, the cockerel (Gerard after Manley Hopkins) crowed form the roof chicken hutch, and the smell of the steeping coffee hung delicately in the air. It was a peaceful morning on the farm. Gilbert woke up slowly, eyes opening by a crack, still heavy with sleep, he lay for just a second revelling in the quite and warmth, before sitting up lazily and stretching up to the sky. As his brain caught up with his body, Gilbert peeled himself from his cosy sheets and opened up the curtains. The full force of the white winter sun making him squint. For a moment he relished in the view, it had snowed again the night before and the outside world looked like something from a fairytale, as though Clara would come waltzing across the frost with her nutcracker in toe at any moment.

As Gilbert moved from the window, he thought back to the night before and a warm feeling settled in his chest. Everything seemed to make just a little more sense, the lens of his life had been twisted back to focus, and now through it, one could see stars. He opened up his dresser, taking time in picking his clothes and pulling them on, once dressed he padded lightly down the stairs.

"Morning sunshine!" Bash said with a toothy grin.

"Mornin' Bash," Gilbert went to pour himself a mug of coffee but Bash slapped his hand away.

"Not until you've gotten the eggs young man," Gilbert groaned, but went out the door and down to the chicken coop without a word of complaint.

It was a nippy morning, and the bright sun reflected off the snow, making it dazzle brilliantly. Gilbert felt his cheeks flushing from cold as he approached the coop. The whole task was a little tedious, most of the hens didn't lay at all in winter and the few that did laid only a couple eggs a week, they'd be lucky to gather as many as six in a week. Naturally the strongest layer throughout winter was a real pain, his arch feathered nemesis, the raven black villain; Wilma. Gilbert went into the coop ducking his head and approached Wilma, as he reached under her to take out her egg, she relentlessly pecked the back of his hand, the sensation wasn't painful but it made him squirm. After he got the egg out, she began parading around the floor, strutting about to show her indignation. Gilbert noticed a less evil hen, Enid was in the corner and discovered she'd also lain an egg, and of course sat calmly as he pulled it from beneath her. Gilbert slipped both Enid's brown speckled egg, and Wilma's pale blue-green one into his pocket.

As he turned to leave he saw that Wilma had planted herself, stock still, in the dead centre on the door frame. This was going to be a long morning. He eventually coaxed her out of the way using some grain that was stored in a small cupboard close to the roof of the hutch. But he knew that really she'd won, getting extra food and causing him an extra five minutes before being able to get out of the biting cold and enjoy a coffee. If we wasn't a man of honour, Wilma would've gotten a swift boot in the beak. Wilma: 1, Blythe: nil.

After this debacle and a trudge back up to the house, Gilbert was finally reunited with his beloved coffee and added the two eggs to the little wrack beside the stove.

"I felt bad about denying you your coffee, so I packed your things for school." Bash said after Gilbert plonked himself down at the table, picking up his book as he did so.

"You didn't have to do that," Bash shrugged.

"You have the left over curry from last night, wrapped in a coconut flat bread, an apple and some dried apricots for lunch,"

"Sounds amazing, thanks." Gilbert said with his signature smile.

Gilbert savoured his drink, he hated to admit but he'd become somewhat of a coffee snob. After he'd become in charge of his own finances (that had been greatly bolstered by his summer on the steamer and his father's life insurance pay out) he'd gotten the wherewithal to indulge a little, and he'd taken to buying expensive Columbian coffees. And then he'd bought a book on coffee. And then his issue had spiralled out of control, now he could deduce the coffee's roast from the colour of the bean, knew the best grids and temperatures, he frequently read articles about Instant Coffee in New Zealand, and espresso machines in Italy. It had become some what of an obsession, and as a consequence his bar for a good coffee was unprecedentedly high. Luckily to all concerned, he was enough of a caffeine fiend to drink most anything handed to him.

Gilbert finished his coffee in silence, absorbed in his reading.

"Gilbert, you need to be going soon," Bash remarked, Gilbert started as though broken from a trance.

"Oh yes, of course," Gilbert glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner and saw he had about five minutes before he had to leave. Remembering Cole would be there to greet him felt like a revelation and the morning was suddenly a little less gloomy.

He cleaned out his coffee mug, put on his boots, his heavy cotton over coat, his flat cap and a scarf. Just as he was about to leave, he picked a second apple from the fruit bowl on the table, he supposed it could act as an olive branch, an extension of friendship that would allow him to invite himself to sit with Cole at lunch. Burying his hands deep in his pockets, he pushed the door open with his back ad began to hurry through the frost to the school house. Pace more dictated by the cold than any rush.

Now that he was wrapped up warmly and with no malicious hens to worry about, he could better appreciate the morning and the soft crunch that his boots made leaving a trail in the stark snow. As he raced to school he daydreamed, imagining the day to come and having gotten lost in his thoughts, was surprised when he noticed the school looming up behind some naked bushes.

Today he entered into the school house silently, cringing at how he'd barged in so thoughtlessly the day before. Cole was already inside but couldn't have been for long as he was lingering in the cloak room, with unmelted snowflakes sprinkling his body. Perhaps that was unsurprising though, as the school felt just as cold as the outside world and Gilbert was sure if you placed out as ice cube on one of the desks, it wouldn't show any sign of melting.

"Good morning Cole!" Gilbert greeted with a merry wave,

"Hi," Cole responded with a watery smile.

"Are you alright?" Gilbert's brow furrowed,

"I just didn't sleep well is all," This didn't satisfy Gilbert, and the way Cole hobbled into the class room only reinforced his suspicion. He decided not to push now as Ms Stacy was likely in earshot , but mentally noted to talk about later.

"Hm, well I tried tea in my milk, and I concede you were right," Some of the tension visibly melted from Cole's shoulders and he seemed to relax a little.

"Of course I was! I'm the king of tea, so I know these things!" Cole's face a lit with a cheeky smile,

"One might say you're part of the monarchTEA!" Gilbert looked just a little too proud of himself, Cole was visibly unsure as to wether this should make him laugh or cry.

Luckily Ms Stacy came in with their drinks and saved Cole the decision. Gilbert savoured the bitter coffee, keen to make it last as long as he could.

"I think this morning we will look at Pythagorean Theorem in three dimensions!" Ms Stacy being, well Ms Stacy, had gotten blocks of wood cut into pyramids to demonstrate the principle. She had a special power for making mind numbing abstract maths interesting, Gilbert silently thanked the lord for Muriel Stacy.

* * *

At lunch Cole sat at his normal spot, as usual he had his eyes fixated on his sketch book. Focusing with such ferocity, one would've thought the answers to life and love lay in the intricate pencil strokes, and graphite smudges on the page. Cole was drawing a sinking ship in a vicious storm, the stern of the ship was partially submerged, angry waves roared at its side and the sky crackled with lightning and fear. The drawing emanated such dread and hopelessness that one could almost smell ozone, oozing out from Cole's far off fantasy into the world, drawn out by his harsh black lines.

Cole heard footsteps approaching, the deflated trudging sound of a boot breaking snow. He saw a shadow slowly growing across his page and he hoped with all his heart it wasn't Billy Andrews', he didn't look up but instead heard Gilbert's voice from above him, "That's beautiful,"

"It's not meant to be beautiful," Cole felt almost offended by the suggestion, the emotion he'd been pouring onto the page was far from beautiful. It was a sadness and despair, the type you feel deep in your core, that he'd allow to seep out of him slow as molasses, tendrils of darkness pulling an image out from his mind and slashing it out through his pencil. Perhaps even an anger too, a quieter taint than the melancholy, but Cole still saw it in the waves. He saw how he'd felt the night before after his father had left the room. What he didn't see was beauty, that was for sure and certain.

"If it's not meant to be beautiful, then what's it supposed to be?"

"Sad. I don't know, hopeless?" Cole felt stupid, he'd never been one for words and felt wholly frustrated with his inability to express himself.

"Many sad and hopeless things are beautiful,"He knew Gilbert was trying to be kind, he knew he was just reaching out, but the suggestion still angered him. It was so invalidating, these feelings that he hated himself for, being compared to something so superficial as beauty.

"Yeah, right." He just wanted to be left alone.

"No, no, I'm right on this. Ask me." Gilbert was talking playfully, like this was all some kind of a joke.

"Ask you what?"

"About sad, hopeless and beautiful things,"

"I'm not going to-"

"Ask me,"

"Gilbert-"

"Just do it!"

Cole huffed and as if in resignation sighed, "What is sad, hopeless and beautiful?"

Gilbert squatted down so his eyes were level with Cole's, Cole imagined Gilbert whispering 'You', and he made him resent himself more for it. The fall for Gilbert Blythe wasn't short, with a pile of feathers to cushion the impact. If he fell for Gilbert then it would be an endless tumble through nothing, arms flailing seeking purchase but only falling away, unable to find help. The ending of this long fall would surely be a bone shattering impact, and then the dark decisive characters would emerge from the bottom of this pit of dark and they'd kick him, as he curled into the foetal position, until the last breath of life left him. Were upon they'd feed his body to the dogs. That's what falling for Gilbert would mean, so he had to hate himself for thinking such lovely and blasphemous things. Granted his assesment was all hopelessly melodramatic, but it was also helplessly true.

"The night sky," Whispered Gilbert.

"Bit of an anti-climax..." Cole said to try and slow the descent of his catastoihpsing, but despite the forced chuckle he served it with the joke still sounded stale.

"That was so deep!" Gilbert said exasperated and sat down next to Cole, leaving hardly any space between them.

"About as deep as a puddle, you really had me going there, thought you were going to say something poetical and romantic," A wave of anxiety marbled with the thrill of flirtation. He couldn't indulge but he also couldn't help himself.

"And why," Gilbert turned his face, his nose mere inches from Cole's cheek, Cole felt his breath.

"Would I say anything poetical and romantic to you?"

Cole could feel his face burning, in embarrassment and indignation. Had he misread the situation and was Gilbert taking the opportunity to trample him under his boot? Or was he testing Cole, seeing if he meant it, if he was trust worthy? Was it some snide homophobic joke, an innocent mistake or... or was he flirting back? Cole felt himself falling.

"Because I'm your prince, and hero's are meant to whoo those they come and save," Cole was shocked at what he'd allowed himself to say, it was Gilbert's turn to go red. The pinker Gilbert became the more happy Cole grew as he became sure he was right. Gilbert may not be gay but he definitely wasn't an asshole. And from the ruby red of Gilberts face, he may well be gay.

"Besides Anne is my only other source of poetry and romance, and she seems rather preoccupied these days," Cole turned his head, now Gilbert and him were staring right in one another's eyes at point blank range, Gilbert wore a smile and a twinkle of mirth. Cole allowed himself a dip into the luscious pool of Gilbert's hot chocolate eyes, he became aware of their closeness, and couldn't bring himself to care. He knew he had to turn away, retreat back, draw away from the fire that was Gilbert Blythe (temptingly warm but dangerous to one who allowed themselves too close to the flame). Before he could regain control over his body, Gilbert whispered in his ear,

"Come with me,"

Cole picked up his drawing things, stood (he wasn't falling he was rising up from a past that’s rooted in pain and into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear) and followed Gilbert around the building. Breaking eye contact and moving apart, broke the spell Gilbert held over Cole.

A rush of doubt flooded his mind. They'd been so close and there was a nagging part at the back of Cole's brain urging him to close the gap between them. And that was dangerous. Putting aside wether Gilbert would even want that, it was potentially deadly. They were right out in the open, if Cole had lent into Gilbert that could've been mercury, slowly but surely killing both of them. He couldn't. He shouldn't have let himself get into this position, flirting with a boy and letting the boy flirt back. That meant his father's wrath, it meant herecy and witch craft, it meant prison. Cole couldn't let Gilbert be the fire that burnt him at the stake.

But still he followed him. To the quiet back of the school house. And he resented himself for it.

Gilbert sat down on the stone foundation, the ledge was two or so feet deep and quite high off the ground. Cole hesitated for a long moment before he went and sat next to him, at a considerable distance from Gilbert.

"I don't bite," Gilbert joked, You burn, Cole thought.

"Don't Gilbert," Cole couldn't stomach his smile.

"Is this about your family?" Gilbert got up to stand in front of Cole,

"No it's not, it's about you. You can't flirt with me Gilbert, not here, not ever." So many emotions raced across Gilbert's face in a matter of moments, he looked like a deer, who'd just wilfully sprung onto the road, only to be confronted with a horse and trap racing toward it. His big doe eyes riddled with surprise. But it was better, Cole thought, that he nipped it in the bud. Easier to kill a sprout than a rose.

"I wasn't-" Gilbert tried to defend, he looked like a wounded puppy.

"I'm not saying that was your intention, and I know I let you get away with it yesterday but no. I want to be your friend, I do. But not if you're going to-"

"I think- no, you are over reacting. But I think I know some of what you're going through so I'm not going to push it. Cole I didn't intend to flirt with you, I don't like boys like that." Cole felt just a little shell shocked. He had of course considered it mere moments before so didn't know why it stung so, when Gilbert said it aloud. Had he really been so desperate as to trick himself into seeing signs? No, Gilbert called him his 'Prince' that's not okay, that's not platonic. Unless, it was? Just a harmless joke that he'd read too far into. Was he so desperate to be loved, to be validated. He'd let himself get so angry at Gilbert, but Gilbert had been blissfully ignorant of his strife all along? Cole needed to get out of his own head but he found himself burying in deeper. He thought too much but he found himself thinking about that, the world around him felt to vivid, his emotion too wretched and raw, like a knob controlling the intensity of his reality had been dialled to past the maximum.

He must have looked dejected because Gilbert said "But I do want to be your friend so can we put this aside? I brought you an apple but you're welcome to share the rest of my lunch, we don't even have to talk."

"Thanks," Cole mumbled, mum as a thousand mice. His head was a hurricane, but he wasn't in it's eye, he was being sucked in and spat out, tossed about in the torrents of wind.

"but can we?" he spoke softly, a boiling pot taken off the heat.

"Can we what?" Gilbert asked, confusion evident in his face.

"Talk?"

"About?"

"Anything, anything but the big things. We could talk about God or politics or death, just nothing important."

Gilbert let out a light chuckle, in spite of it all, "Oh so only small talk's on the table then?"

"We just tried big talk and I wasn't overly pleased with the outcome,"

"Sorry,"

"I wasn't looking for an apology,"

"The best things to find are things you don't know you're looking for, like leftover chocolate or long lost siblings."

"You don't have any of those do you?"

"Chocolate? No, not with Bash in the house!"

"Siblings."

"I know what you meant Cole I was teasing."

"...oh."

"No, I don't have any siblings, well unless they're long lost I suppose,"

"I have siblings coming out of my ears,"

"You should have a doctor look at that,"

"Gilbert you're actually about as funny as a ham sandwich,"

"I like ham." Gilbert smiled smugly,

"You're incorrigible!"

"What's it like, living with so many siblings?"

"Loud, frustrating,"

"I never wanted siblings."

"Neither did I, I mostly stay in my room and draw."

"I'd love to see. I imagine your room is overflowing with the most amazing art,"

"and yours probably looks like a library, I imagine you have doctorates coating the walls," Gilbert sat back down. They continued to exchange quips and food for the remainder of the hour. Well most the food came from Gilbert, as did most the quips, but Cole provided comebacks and insight so it seemed a fair exchange.

* * *

There was a war raging in Gilbert's head, but it was so painful it felt more like a massacre. He had a throbbing headache and couldn't focus on the work set out for him. On one side a general with a twirling moustache shouted that, he should tell the truth, talk to Cole, but that generals men kept ignoring his command and running head long into the opposing armies spears. The other army stood stock still information, all wearing identical frowns and though they spoke no words, their foreboding presence was deafening.

'I don't like boys like that.'

Until yesterday he hadn't even considered he could like boys like that, and the mere suggestion had kept him up half the night. Part of the satisfaction and peacefulness he'd felt that morning(until sodding Wilma got involved), stemmed from the conclusion he'd reached. That he probably DID like boys like that. Of course he wasn't sure, it was so new and so out of reach. But the idea helped a lot of things fall into place, a lot of tenderness, and heart pangs and wistful glances he'd never been able to explain. He hadn't finished the puzzle but it had been like the last edge piece slotted perfectly into place, and now all that was left was to fill in the gaps.

So why had he lied? Uncertainty? Insecurity?

He wasn't sure of the exact nature towards his attraction to men and women. Maybe it was partly to one and more so to the other, maybe it was a fifty, fifty split, perhaps it was unquantifiable or constantly shifting. But there was definitely an attraction to men and women, and there was definitely an attraction to Cole.

He cast his mind back to Anne, it had taken him months to admit his feelings to himself, and months longer to express them and even then it had been in a vague hoping-she-took-the-hint kind of a way. Perhaps this was just the same conundrum.

The dark army, all slowly raised an arm in simultaneous salute. As they did, in perfect time, a banner was raised. I was Cole's face filled with confusion and shock, frozen in time. The expression he'd made after Gilbert had said those fateful words. Like a skull and crossbones, under the face were two intersected arrows, piercing a heart set between them, the banner dripped red. The faceless figures shoulders raise and fell in sync, as though in mechanical laughter. They were mocking him, mocking Cole, he was a head on a stick designed to ward off young boys who might stray the path of sinful love. Bile rose in Gilbert's throat. Thick and suffocating.

He couldn't go back from that. Not easily. Cole wouldn't get it. Wouldn't understand why he lied and hurt him. Even if he did what then? Closed doors? Passing whispers? that's no life to have. An unscalable wall of impenetrable doubt and hatred was being built around Gilbert. The dark army, stacking burnt copper bricks, one on top of another. Soon he wouldn't even be able to see the moustachioed man, or the sinking sun behind him.

Was this Anne's so called 'depths of despair'? Heart sinking, jaw tensed as if to stop oxygen escaping desperate lungs. He saw Cole's sinking ship. At that moment, it was as if a potato had been linked to the bulb in Gilbert's brain. An instantaneous light of clarity. His dark army was the same as Cole's ship. Something inherently linked the two, they were both this kind of ominous, oppressive force. A hatred within oneself, for what one is. He had to make things right with Cole.

If only he had the words, the strength or a second longer in that now lost bright clarity.

The ponding in his head had given way to a grim, dirty, dissatisfaction.

The words on his page, blurred and danced provocatively. Stretching and swirling as if in a sink's vortex. He blinked and forced himself to see what was in front of him. The words looked foreign. He turned the paper and in the bottom corner, in a cramped, scrawling cursive he wrote; 'Let me walk you home? - G'. It looked like a tiny insect had bathed in ink and spasmed across the corner of the page, Sebastian had once joked that Gilbert's handwriting had decided his profession long before he had. Despite it's crude look, it was close to legible. Gilbert waited a second for the ink to dry, then ripped the corner from the sheet, before crumpling it (resulting in the ink showing though the page and confirming, that he hadn't given it quite long enough), and aiming it for Cole's head.

The shot was a lot trickier then when Cole sat on the end of the isle, but none the less in bounced from the blond's hair, leaving a speck of blue. Gilbert saw Cole reach and pick it up, uncurl the note, turned to Gilbert and serviced him a grim nod. Gilbert realised Cole must also be waging war against himself.

The time blurred, after what may have been a minute or ten or one hundred, Ms Stacy sharply dismissed the class. As he collected his things, Ms Stacy came over to his desk. She rapped it with a ruler to get his attention then asked him to wait a few minutes after school. He of course agreed, as what else can one do? But he sent an urgent look sideways to Cole, who was absentmindedly staring at him, with an impossible to place, but distant look about him. Gilbert hoped his glance, not only apologised but asked him to wait. There was no recognition in Cole, Gilbert felt like a cat in water, desperate and pathetic. Cole's unwavering stare held no sympathy.

All of the other students filed out, including Cole who seemed to make a point to be the first one out of the door. Gilbert made his way over to the teachers desk;

"You wanted to see me?" He said, a sorrowful look about him,

"Yes, I just wanted to check if you were alright? You weren't your usual self, after lunch, you seemed distracted."

"Me and Cole, we had a, a disagreement," Gilbert stuttered,

"Look at me Gilbert," slowly he did,

"You can tell me the truth." something passed between them, carried by their eyes and he knew he could.

"I told him I didn't like boys,"

She seemed to understand him, despite his intentional vagueness, "If you just clarified that to him, why did you seem so upset? You didn't do even a quater of the work set."

"Well Ms, I'm not sure if that's really the case,"

"Ah I see. Well, completely off the record of course-" he nodded, "-I myself have had homosexual inclinations in the past. I identify as bisexual. This means I'm attracted to both men and women," she spoke clinically and concisely, as if this topic should be dealt with quickly, then washed away. Like it was dirty.

"I guess I'm like you," Gilbert admitted.

"I can't do much to help you Gilbert. I could lose my job. However, if I leant you some educational literature about the nature of sex and sexuality, to assist in your medical studies, that happened to include the themes we've discussed. I don't see what harm could come of it."

"I would appreciate that a lot," She went to the book case and stiffly withdrew two books, that had been seemingly intentionally placed together in the bottom left corner. When she handed them over, they felt like a sacred tome, or a piece of illegal contraband. It was probably somewhere in-between.

"Thank you."

"You best be on your way. Tell no one." This was the most cold Ms Stacy had ever been, perhaps she had her own ship wreck or dismal inhuman army.

He began to walk out, but before going into the cloak room, he bid her good-bye over his shoulder, with a weighted smile that he hoped carried the burden of at least some of the words they'd left unspoken.

Gilbert pulled on his outerwear quickly, stashing the books beneath everything else in his basket. He raced outside hoping to see Cole waiting. When he didn't immediately see him, an irrationally panic flooded in. Akin to when an acquaintance is running late to meet you, and you begin to imagine that maybe you had the wrong time and they weren't coming to meet you at all. This immediately subsided when Cole came out from where he must have been waiting, down the side of the building.

"Cole,"

"Gilbert,"

They both tried to speak at once.

"Gilbert, thank you for being such a good friend to me at lunch. I'm sorry I misinterpreted things so thoroughly and reacted the way I did,"

"Don't apologise Cole. The truth is, I lied. But I can't go into it here. Walk with me?" He offered Cole his hand. Which with some hesitation the other boy took. Cole's fingers were freezing, they were the slender hands of an artist, calloused by farm work and death gripping pencils for hours at a time. They interlocked in a very satisfying way with Gilbert's own, even if they stole a lot of his heat.

He tugged Cole along, their intertwined hands, tying them close. In silence Gilbert lead Cole into the woods, he took a zig-zagging diagonal path. Ultimately they were headed towards Cole's house as promised, but they were taking the scenic route. When he found a sufficiently isolated spot, behind a gargantuan old oak tree, Gilbert took both of Cole's hands into his own.

"Cole. Cole, I'm sorry about lunch. The truth is," he didn't know if even at this intimate whisper he was ready to utter this new idea out loud. He knew it was his truth, but by speaking it to another person, in explicit irrefutable terms changed it from a thought to a fact. Gilbert was sacred of that commitment. After a long moment and shuddering breath, during which Gilbert couldn't meet Cole's eyes, he finally said, "I think I'm bisexual. I'm attracted to men and women. I only yesterday even really thought about it, but it makes sense to me. I was scared to tell you as I didn't have the words I needed, I wasn't completely sure and you'd just said you didn't want me flirting with you. I hope that resolves what happens and we can move on,"

Gilbert finally found the strength to look at Cole, the taller boy had a soft smile on his lips and a showering of snow over his person, he looked like a china doll.

"I'm the same. I like boys," Gilbert trapped Cole into a tight embrace.

"I think we both did things we weren't proud of today, can we leave it in the past?"

Cole nodded.

"So tomorrow, meet me behind the school house at break. I'll bring food to share,"

Cole nodded again, if he hadn't been between Gilbert and the tree Gilbert had a distinct feeling Cole would've run away. But Gilbert wanted to see into Cole's eyes, to be sure he understood. He gave Cole's hands a squeeze, and the blond's head lurched up, forcing him to lock eyes with Gilbert. Gilbert tried to pour every drop of regret and desperation into that stare. Cole pulled out his hands from Gilbert, not once breaking eye contact, and wrapped his arms around the smaller boys waist pulling him into his chest. Gilbert's own hands were pressed up to Cole's torso, he felt Cole's head on his, and his hair fell softly down, grazing Gilbert's ears. Gilbert nuzzled as much as he could into Cole's chest. The two relaxed against each other, and without words, an understanding of a type was formed.

"Why can't you just come live at my house? Why does your father have to be an ass?" Gilbert said into Cole, knowing how silly and childish it must sound. Gilbert felt Cole laughing but the taller boy said nothing. They stayed interlocked like this for a long moment, but after a minute or so, Cole pulled away.

"Gilbert," Cole picked Gilberts hands back up.

",we still can't, not like that. I don't know if you like me like that. But with my home life how it is, I can't do that to you or to myself. Maybe in a different time, but I can't let the sweet fruit that bares arsenic seeds be my undoing,"

"Then just don't eat apples." Gilbert heard himself saying. It wasn't like he thought that after hardly knowing each other, and getting in a fight, they'd some how magically become boyfriends. But it still hurt to be turned down, especially by Cole, whom, if he was honest with himself, had been crushing on since Josephine Barry's party, a couple of months ago.

"Gilbert," Cole sounded guilty, "I need to know you understand." Gilbert couldn't help but feel patronised. He pulled his hands from Cole's.

"Just friends," Gilbert said like a surrender.

"Just friends." Cole agreed like a promise.

And that's how Gilbert Blythe and Cole Mackenzie lay the foundation for their friendship, on a truce of mutual denial over their mutual affection. The classic saving a failing friendship, over a future romance. Neither of them was happy about the arrangement, but neither had the the support, nor understanding to do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback on the first part! I hope you enjoyed today's chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> If you've gotten all the way down here, I really hope you'll consider taking the time to leave a comment, it means the world to me!


End file.
